The Angel With A Demon's Eyes
by FairyOfTales
Summary: What if? What if Erik had found another girl, a new daughter? What if he moved on from Christine? Erik discovers a bloody and beaten child in labyrinth below the opera house, Annamariana, the Angel of the opera house, His daughter. ErikMeg, ErikOcPlatonic


Disclaimer: Hullo, I do NOT own any of the marvelous Phantom of the Opera related material, but I do own my plot, clutches plot and my characters. clutches characters to breast as well Now... BEGONE!!!

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Wildly Annamariana fled down the murky alley, hands clasped to her burning eyes and her breathe coming out in harsh pants. She imagined she could hear the drunken foot steps of her father behind her, his shrieking and inebriated voice damning her and cursing the day she was born.

'Where?' She thought desperately. 'Where did it go wrong? Why can't my daddy love me? Why's my mommy gone?' And as she pounded blindly down the street hands fisted in front of her burnt and scalded eyes she came to a startling realization that no child should ever have to experience.

"Me..." she sobbed, collapsing to her knee's and sobbing into her hands, the tears mixing with rivulets of blood and matter. "It's all due to me..."

'It's my fault Mommy's dead, it's my fault that Daddy doesn't love me... It's all because of me.' She thought desperately, shaking her head frantically. 'Me, me, me, me, me...' Taking a shuddering breathe she hauled herself to shaky feet, holding one hand to her burning face and using the other to guide her quivering body down the hall.

Progress was slow, and several times she fell to her knee's and had to stop crying in order to find her way back to the wall, ignoring the harsh calls of the drunken bums that occupied the alley way, focused only on escaping her father's 'love'. As she stumbled on her feet slashed through puddles, staining her pristine white socks a muddy brown and clumping her long brown hair together to stick in greasy and damp clumps to her face.

Tripping once more, another in a continuous cycle of, fall, cry, get up stumble a few feet farther down, and repeat; she realized that she had tumbled into a hallway, the sound of feet stomping above and to the left of her head alerting her that she could not be seen. Gasping she crawled upon her hands and knees until her knee caps bled, and the tips of her fingers and her palms were so raw the skin was starting to peel back before collapsing into the fetal position and curling up against the nearest wall.

Sobbing quietly she drifted into haunted dreams of her father's drunken screaming and the mother she never knew.

---

Silently Erik swept through the cavernous hallways and foreboding corridors that occupied the lower levels of his opera house, making his way with a particular sense of urgency to a mirror he knew would lead him to his young prodigy, his Christine.

Instead, as he continued striding down the hallways, focused entirely upon reaching Christine, he found himself on floor.

Glancing about in irritation, a small spark of anger burning up through his gut as he surveyed the area in search of what ever it was that had caused him to pause and stumble; he almost looked over the quivering bundle huddled desperately against the wall to his right.

Growling and advancing upon the foolish being that had dared enter his labyrinth, he glided up to the small shape against the wall. Giving it a harsh shake on the shoulder he attempted to draw it's attention to him, wanting to see the face of the thing that had kept him from his beloved.

Gasping, he dropped the shoulder in shock, finding instead of a troublesome drunk; or one of the many homeless that occupied the intricate network of Paris' alleys he found a torn and dirty child; the only clean spot on her face being the salty tracks left by what appeared to be tears.

Ignoring the pity that had welled inside of him seeing the pathetic child on the ground before, the pity that he had never had, he roughly shook the child again; growling angrily when it, instead of doing as it was required, let out a sob and attempted to back away from him clenching it's hands to it's face desperately.

"You, child." He bit out, fighting the urge to tear the child's bony hands from her face and force it to look at him. "What are you doing here, haven't your parents taught you not to wander off?"

---

Wincing and flinching away from the harsh hand that grasped her shoulder, Anna fought to keep her hands over her eyes, still not used to the blankness that was followed by the dark realization she couldn't see whenever she opened them.

Sharply, she inhaled as she heard the harsh, spiteful question that spilled like poison from the man before hers lips. He had the voice of an angel, and the tongue of a devil.

Taking a deep breathe she didn't answer, instead pulling her knee's tighter to her chest in a futile attempt to protect herself for the violence she was sure was to come.

Vaguely she could hear an outraged snort come from the man in front of her and felt herself being lifted into large, warm arms and getting swept down the hall; only to be dumped with a careless disregard in front of where she didn't know.

"There," The voice said, giving her a shove forward. "Here's the exit. Now leave before I loose patience."

Anna started shaking violently, realizing that he wanted her to leave, but knowing that she couldn't. she didn't speak and instead shook her head slowly, willing him to realize that she couldn't leave. But, life was not so kind and he let out a outraged shout.

"Why," He screamed, "won't you leave little girl? Do you wish to stay in the lair of a monster!" Then, with a panicked shriek anna felt her arms being ripped from her face and her burning eyes being exposed to the damp air that surrounded her.

---

Letting out a shocked breathe, Erik backed away from the horrendous sight before him. The girl, naught but a child, had the eyes of a demon. Her pupils had mixed with surrounding white matter, creating instead of a ovular circle, a X through each eye, and the burst blood vessels dying the rest a light shade of pink.

All thoughts of Christine fled his mind, chased away by the concern and shattering realization that maybe, just maybe this child was like him... Stomping down this foolish hope he realized that no child was like, him. No child had been thrown away by their mother and tossed into a harsh world of beatings and cruel laughter for a fact he could not control.

Yet, he couldn't leave her like this, that would be cruel. And though he was fabled and renowned for being heartless and cold, Erik was not cruel. So, without a second thought he swept the shivering girl into his arms and carried her hastily down the hallway to his room, lying her inside his coffin.

"Girl, you will stay here and not move in any circumstance until I come back. Do you understand?" He asked, softening his voice when he saw the girl wince and recoil from his harsh tone.

"Good," He said, recognizing the frantic bobbing of her head as as much of a yes as he was currently going to get he swirled around, practically sprinting towards box five in hopes of catching the last few moments of his angels performance.


End file.
